


The Cat

by eiluned



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Feels, Ficlet, Fluff, Humor, and the men who love them, stealthy women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living with Natasha was like living with a particularly vindictive and stealthy cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, sweet little ficlet that needed to get out of my head. Sorry for the lack of porn, but hopefully the fluff will make up for it. <3
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.

Living with Natasha was like living with a particularly vindictive and stealthy cat.

1.

Clint stumbled into the bedroom of what he thought was their otherwise empty apartment. It had been a hard, miserable fucking day, and he wanted nothing more than to take a stupidly hot shower and then collapse in bed and not move for at least 24 hours. He was daydreaming about it, in fact: how the pillow would feel under his head, exactly the best way to wrap the blankets around himself so Natasha couldn't steal them, what he'd dream about if he had any control over that kind of thing (it was either pizza or Natasha's boobs).

His legs were suddenly swept out from under him.

"Oof!" he grunted, luckily going down on the bed and not the hardwood floor. "Jesus, Nat–"

"Hi," she replied from her perch on his ass. "Rough day?"

2.

It was Stupid O'Clock in the morning, and Clint wasn't exactly what you'd call awake. He was upright and naked in the bathroom, waiting for the water to get hot because apparently showing up for a meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s brass looking like you just rolled out of bed was inappropriate.

He usually wouldn't give a fuck about being inappropriate, but the last time he'd been written up for inappropriate behavior, he'd ended up on a crap-ass mission in the middle of Alaska for three weeks.

Self-preservation was his best instinct.

Unfortunately, his instinct for self-preservation was slightly faulty in the wee hours of the morning, because he totally didn't hear Natasha come into the bathroom or slide back the shower curtain.

He certainly heard it when she murmured, "Good morning," right in his ear.

He knew that he would never, ever live down that girly scream.

3.

Clint was almost asleep, drifting in that weird space between wakefulness and dreaming, when he sensed someone coming into the room.

"Tasha?" he mumbled, squinting into the dimness.

She didn't answer. She just shucked her clothes and crawled under the covers, curling up around him and pressing her face against his shoulder.

"Bad day?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around her.

Moments like this were few and far between, but when they did happen, he was always struck by how physically small she was. It was easy to forget that she was a petite woman when she was handing a dude twice her size his own ass, but she was slightly built, small enough that he felt like he could completely envelop her when he held her.

She still didn't answer, but she rubbed her face against the side of his neck like a cat, and he turned onto his side so he could properly pull her into his arms.

All cats occasionally need to cuddle, even particularly vindictive and stealthy ones.


End file.
